Kristi's Korner
01-08-08
On a warm spring day several years ago, the tassel from my cap drifted in and out of view as my head spun with sheer panic to the droning symphony of graduation music. I was expected to celebrate the hard work, the "best years of my life" and the impending success. But in reality I was entirely frightened by the unknown. With a diploma in one hand and a suitcase in the other, I was practically thrown out onto the doorstep of a massive university, expected to make something of my life at the ripe age of 22. But like a frightened child kicking and screaming for their blanket, I retreated to the only other place I knew: home. So I set out to the safe and familiar Kalamazoo. And I cried the whole way there.
Within a week of graduation, an internship at one of Kalamazoo's respectable healthcare facilities gave way to a full-time position. But I woke up in my old bedroom, ate cereal at my old breakfast table and compromised a curfew with the parents. I was 17 again -and hating it. I was relieved to put on my corporate sweater vest and drive downtown to work each day. As an adult, I saw Kalamazoo from a new perspective. I thirsted to differentiate myself from my former life as a child in this town, and soon realized that I didn't have to go far to find a fresh perspective and a new beginning: downtown.
As a child, Kalamazoo was limited to the route from our farm to grandma's farm and the occasional shopping trip or doctor's appointment. I hardly knew that a downtown Kalamazoo existed, until a spaceship had landed in the heart of the city. Like a curious farm girl captivated by UFO's and cattle abductions, I ventured downtown to discover that the "spaceship" was really the futuristic facelift of the Radisson Plaza Hotel. But I was pleased, because as I admired the arched steel and shining glass of the new, modern creation, I suddenly felt as if I had left typical, comfortable Kalamazoo and entered a young, cosmopolitan city.
I was surrounded by a unique charm: the view of an illuminated brick mall, the scent of espresso and the soft melody of a nearby jazz ensemble in the Union Cabaret and Grill. Young couples holding hands scurried under the fluorescent lights of the Rave Theater in hopes of making their show. This new Kalamazoo awakened in me something I hadn't felt since I left college. I realized that I didn't have to go much further than grandma's farm to find a renewed sense of adventure and a fresh start in a new town.
Now in my mid-twenties, I am pleased to discover that the "best years of my life" have extended beyond the great university and continued in this great town. My college friends had moved to Detroit, Phoenix and Atlanta... but I moved to Kalamazoo. I moved home.